


Redemption

by SlicingGingers



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Cannibalism, F/M, Fugitives, Gore, Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Illness, Other, Paranoia, Self Surgery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7903777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlicingGingers/pseuds/SlicingGingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after the fall from the cliff in the series finale? Did Hannibal survive? Did Will? Is there maybe someone else who could have come in to play to get Hannibal to Bedelia's house to dine on her leg? Maybe things just aren't all how they seem, but even if they are, how long can Hannibal stay safe from all those who wish to hunt him down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redemption

Six months. Six long months had passed. Will still hadn't said a word. He'd taken a lot to get here. So much. It wasn't working. He was going to have to face the fact that his closest companion some how seemed to be Freddie Lounds. He also didn't completely hate it. She took better care of Will than he'd assumed she would. Perhaps it was just easy given the state he was in. Catatonic. Agreeable. Though he also could tell that she wasn't comfortable. Wanted to at least have a dialogue. She'd done so much to help him get to this point. Shown a side of her he never thought he'd see. Even if things were find now, six months ago they weren't. It all started with a fall….

> _He could barely breathe or even think, but he was alive. The pain reminded him of that. Too much pain. Some how glorious and yet awful all at once. Will was gone. He'd lost his grip on the man in the water. It was too dark still to see much of anything and there was no way he was going to find his companion. Possibly someone who could have eventually been a lover. No. He had to move on. Cut his losses. Suicide was not an option. He wouldn't have gone out that way if he'd chosen. Will had decided for them. In which case, Will didn't want him around. He was proud and disappointed. His leg hurt. Badly. He glanced down at it but couldn't see much. It was dawn but not enough light had yet spilled through the trees. Not to mention the fact that he had been shot just moments before falling off of that cliff. In a fight. Things couldn't exactly be much worse but he would survive. He'd gotten through hell and he wasn't ready to actually slip into that dark night. With all his strength he sat up and held his hand over his stomach. The wound wasn't too bad. He could fix this. Shoving himself back more from the water he pulled his knife and looked at it. Time to dig out the bullet. That was, if it were possible. He'd certainly try._
> 
> _With a deep breath he began to poke around in the wound a bit. Making it slightly bigger to be able to get the metal slug out. Slowly, very slowly he moved until he felt the intruding ball of lead. It wasn't easy and as he popped it out, his vision began to tunnel. All he could think about was not blacking out. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. He'd be okay. He had to be okay. Hannibal Lecter was not going to die this way. In some forest in the middle of nowhere. If he just kept heading north he'd find his way out. They would all be looking for him of course but he knew enough. He had the knife. He could survive until he crossed the border into Canada. It was all about heading north. Perhaps he'd find an unoccupied cabin. Or an occupied one. He really didn't care. He'd just kill whoever was in there anyway. Not like he wasn't already a wanted criminal. Now was time for rest. Not sleep, just rest. With how the video camera had been positioned it would have looked like they'd both gone over the cliff. By the time any sort of authorities got there they'd assume the worst. A recovery mission. Obviously it was preferable to move away from the bank of the river but after that, he could find time to catch his breath and regroup._
> 
> _He stood, finally, on very shaky legs, and stumbled more into the forest where he sat again. Leaning against the tree. Using his knife he cut a strip of fabric from his shirt and started to pack the wound as best he could to stem the flow of blood. His mind still racing, even with the water he was drenched in Will's scent was on his nose. This was going to be harder to deal with than he thought. Much harder. He heard a voice and looked up. Was it a voice? Or was it his own mind? The stinking, reeking, stench of failure. A job not well done. A plan horribly ruined by the unpredictability of a man he thought he may have been able to predict. At least at some point in time. There was silence again. Relatively. The sounds of nature surrounded him but nothing like a human voice. He'd let his eyes close for just a moment. A small rest. Yes. That was it._
> 
> _"If you close your eyes you know you won't be opening them again." That was definitely a voice, and one he recognized. His eyes went wide and he saw Freddie Lounds standing by his feet. He tilted his head to the side. How could she have found him, or even have possibly gotten out there? No, this wasn't right this…a hallucination? A dream? Was he already asleep. He pressed on his stomach to be sure of it. Pain radiated through him. No, he was most definitely awake._
> 
> _"Ms. Lounds?" He muttered, his breath coming out in short gasps._
> 
> _"You know who I am Hannibal, we don't need to go through introductions." She said and sat down next to him. He turned his head to look at her. Why wasn't she afraid of him? Then again, had she ever been? Even though years ago she'd never flat out stated she knew he was the ripper he always sensed it. Something told him maybe Abigail let it slip. Or let something slip. Freddie Lounds was not a dim bulb. She knew how to work with the information she was given. She knew how to get information she wasn't supposed to have. If anyone would have given her enough information to draw the conclusion that he was the ripper it would have been Abigail. Even inadvertently. "You can't sleep here."_
> 
> _"How did you find me?"_
> 
> _"I go where I'm most needed." She said. Even her attire was appropriate for the surroundings. She was clean though. Not wet or muddy. Nice warm and obnoxiously bright red plaid pants. A warm black fur jacket. Looked like mink. Bright gold buttons down the front, and a matching pair of earmuffs over her chaotically curly red hair. On her hands were a nice pair of fur lined gloves._
> 
> _"You aren't needed here. I can assure you of that." He muttered, only semi-aware that he may be speaking to himself with no one actually there. At that point he was more than insane and he embraced it. It would be preferable to chat to Will if he was going to go full on delusional but he'd have to make do with this. It was keeping him occupied and conscious, which was what he needed most in the moment._
> 
> _"Aren't I?"_
> 
> _"Give me your jacket then." He coughed, a breathless laugh followed._
> 
> _"Hmmm, for one it wouldn't fit you, and for two I think you are still just sane enough to know I'm not actually here." She folded her arms over her chest and got comfortable next to him._
> 
> _"I can smell you." He hissed._
> 
> _"Can you? Or do you just think you can because the hallucination is so real?" She offered a smug smile. One that nearly mirrored a smile he'd give someone when he knew that he was right about something. This Freddie was, well she was very much Freddie and yet some how she was him. Obviously she had to be a part of him or else he couldn't be seeing her in the way he was. It was interesting to him that the person he'd conjure up was her. Yet it also made sense. Out of all the people he'd interacted with during the time in his life he'd met Will, she'd been the most similar to him. He hadn't been able to manipulate her like the others. She definitely wasn't the type with super high morals and she manipulated things herself. Part of him wondered if she'd ever killed just for fun. Killed at all. Freddie wasn't even highly predictable. Several times he had assumed she'd do something she just hadn't. As much as he'd hated to admit it back then, she was interesting. Which was one of the things that kept her alive. The other thing being that she was useful in antagonizing Will just enough to push him over the edge. Or so he'd hoped. Now, due to his insanity, she was some sort of extension of him. A projection. Well, he could deal with that. She'd always annoyed Will far more than she'd annoyed him. In a different world he had thought they could have had some kind of, simpatico if not quite a friendship. He'd make it work now, even if she was just a part of his own mind._
> 
> _"What do you propose we do then?"_
> 
> _"Not sleep for starters." She said. "I'd suggest starting a fire but if they coming looking around here…"_
> 
> _"Not a good idea either." He muttered, forcing himself to sit up a bit more. He was going to have to find shelter, some sort of shelter. Keeping on the go was his only chance to escape with his life. There would be no shortage of men or dogs looking for him. They would even likely break out the helicopters if they had to. With the inferred cameras._
> 
> _"Can you walk?"_
> 
> _"Not very well right now." He admitted even though he hated to admit such a thing. His leg wasn't broken but something had happened. A twisted knee was most likely. Sprained. It wouldn't be a good idea to put full weight on it just yet. "I do have some window of time to rest, you know. I just won't sleep. I promise…I won't."_
> 
> _"Do you?"_
> 
> _"Shut up, Ms. Lounds."_
> 
> _"Freddie is fine you know."_
> 
> _"You are aware I could call you Hannibal and it would make the same amount of sense as Freddie." He informed her, vaguely aware that he was merely just arguing with himself at that point. She was no better than an invisible friend that a child would create. Just one step above that because he could actually see her and smell her. He wondered what she'd taste like._
> 
> _"I can't be consumed, Hannibal."_
> 
> _"You? No. Actual Freddie Lounds…well that's still a possibility isn't it?"_
> 
> _"Is it?" She asked, "For all the chances you did have to kill me, and there were a lot, you never laid a hand on me. I think you like me, Hannibal." There was that same smug face again. Mocking him with how similar it was to his own. Was it mocking? No. She had actually made that face several times when he had known her. It just happened to be a very similar face to his own. God, they really did have more in common than he wanted to think about. He rubbed his face with his hand and then looked away from her for a long moment, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to focus. When he opened them, she was on the other side of him. "I'm not going away."_
> 
> _"Fine." He spat, "Then can I just…sit here and get some kind of energy back?"_
> 
> _"Sure. I'm not stopping you. I'm just keeping you from sleeping. That's all."_
> 
> _"I'd be very annoyed with your rudeness if it also wasn't explicitly needed in the moment." He muttered. His eyelids fluttered for a moment before he forced them back open so he was staring right at her again._
> 
> _"Then it isn't actually rudeness, is it?"_
> 
> _"You win this round. Or…I do. Something along those lines." He said. "I control you, not the other way around."_
> 
> _"Well, if that were true wouldn't I vanish or become Will or something? Maybe I am real. Either that or you've just gone so insane you've lost more control of your mind than you think you have." She pointed out._
> 
> _"Shut up."_
> 
> _"Oh now who's being the rude one?" She stuck her tongue out at him and he lunged at her. Of course this was pointless because he felt right through her and onto his stomach which caused him to cry out in pain. Quickly, he rolled onto his back and looked up. His eyes wet with tears from the sudden stabbing jolt of electricity through his entire body. She was looking down at him. "Did you really think that was going to work?"_
> 
> _"I don't know." He grumbled._
> 
> _"Good. Now there is a cabin about three miles down that way." She said and motioned north. He blinked a few times. How would she know that? Or was it something he knew already and she was just reminding him. Was it even true? Or was his delusion just creating another delusion about to send him on a wild goose chase or walking off of another cliff?_
> 
> _"Where's Will?"_
> 
> _"How should I know? I just got here." She put her hands on her hips in annoyance. He narrowed his gaze at her and stumbled to his feet. A hand came up to brace himself against the tree and he took in as deep of a breath as he could. "It's a summer cabin and seeing as how it's fall, the place shouldn't be occupied."_
> 
> _"And what if they come looking for us?"_
> 
> _"You mean you?"_
> 
> _"Whatever…" He snarled and took a step forward. She walked with him but it wasn't as if he didn't expect her to follow. A few more steps and he was resting against another tree, trying to draw precious air into his lungs. Okay he could do this. Slow and steady. One foot in front of the other. It would take a while but he had to keep moving. She wasn't wrong. Or he wasn't. They were both correct in that moment that sitting there and waiting to feel better wouldn't be the best option. "Your hair is…not something I ever found appealing."_
> 
> _"Good thing I don't style my hair based on what cannibals think." She replied._
> 
> _"Did I just…insult myself?"_
> 
> _"Perhaps." She giggled and headed on through the trees._
> 
> _"FREDDIE!" He called. He couldn't see her any more but now, for whatever reason, he was desperate to go after her. He had to find her again. She held something in her mind or his mind. She was…a resource. Not that she was real but she was clearly some part of his own subconscious that he was accessing which meant she had information. He could ask her things and she could respond. Obviously the answers would all be from his own mind but seeing as how he couldn't think clearly enough now to access the information, this was all he was going to get. "FREDDIE WAIT!"_
> 
> _He kept pushing forward. Stumbling from tree to tree far quicker than he should have been able to. In his desperation and near panic (a feeling he never liked to admit he had) he crossed a large area of ground. It was painful. Every step was like his foot coming down on hot coals. Every breath was like being punched in the chest and throat over again. The only way he kept moving was the motivation to find this fascination delusion he had created to keep himself on track and remember to gain his freedom above all else. He'd barely even had it for a day and the sweet taste was already addictive. She wasn't coming back though. No matter what he did or where he went. Time flowed on. The sun raised in the sky. To a high point which he could see through the branches but didn't quite touch him directly. He was thirsty, hungry, and in immense pain but all he wanted was for that annoying little redhead to come back. To tell him things. Let him know what was in his brain so he could survive everything and move on. Get better._
> 
> _Just as he thought he was destined to pass out and never get up again, he stumbled into a clearing. 500 yards in front of him was a cabin. It didn't look occupied. She hadn't lied. His mind hadn't lied. There really was a cabin there and it was meant for summer not winter. How had he recalled any of that? It wasn't as if he hadn't scoped out the area numerous times before purchasing the other property where they had fallen from but, it had not been in his mind that it was around. Probably due to the blood loss, trauma from the fall, and subsequent injuries. Yet, here he was. Standing in front of this cabin. Unless that was also some kind of hallucination._
> 
> _"No, it's real. Told you it was there." Her voice was coming from behind him and he nearly jumped out of his skin._
> 
> _"Fine time to choose to show yourself again." He accused and started to limp heavily towards the back door. He leaned against it and tried to catch his breath. His hand hovered above the door knob before grabbing it and giving it a yank. Not surprisingly, nothing happened. He growled and cursed in his native tongue, only to look over at Freddie. She was leaning against a near by tree, pointing at a small, flat rock. "What?"_
> 
> _"It's a rock."_
> 
> _"I know it's a rock. Perhaps I should use it to crush your skull."_
> 
> _"Alright, you'll have to pick it up first." She taunted. His lip twitched in annoyance and he fell to his knees. Too weak at that point to attempt even walking to her. She didn't look afraid of him, not that she had any reason to. He'd bash her good. Yes. Crack open her skull and feast on her raw brains. God he was so incredibly hungry. His hand clasped over the rock and as he lifted it, he realized it was not real. It was a plastic rock and it was used to conceal spare keys. She stepped over him and headed back towards the door as he clamored to open the bottom and get the little jagged metal piece out._
> 
> _"You tricky little bitch."_
> 
> _"I will take that as a compliment. Come on now. We need to get inside and you need to take care of that stomach wound. It's starting to smell."_
> 
> _"What?" He looked down and attempted to inhale his own scent. Fuck, she wasn't wrong. It was most definitely showing small signs of infection already. Nothing that anyone else would really be able to smell but with his own abilities he could. This was going to end badly if he couldn't figure out some sort of treatment plan in the next two or three days. He was resourceful and so was she. Everything that was in his head was in the projected delusion of Freddie Lounds that he saw now. The problem was that his mind was just as stubborn as her own personality. It was going to be like pulling teeth to get the information he'd need to save his own life._

"Hannibal?" Freddie called. He snapped out of his light doze, his hand still holding Will's and looked over at her. She was standing in the doorway looking far more glamorous and put together than he ever believed that she could. "Contact in the states claims the FBI is close."

"Moving again would be…dangerous. Especially with the condition Will is in." Hannibal replied. She nodded and came more into the room. He watched her look the man over. Laying there in bed, completely limp. An empty shell of something that he once was and probably would never be again. At most he blinked. Hannibal had attempted to work out some sort of communication with him via that simple gesture but it had all been in vain.

"I know." She said, "But I'm not going to leave you."

"Not to offend you, Freddie but why?" He asked. She shrugged then pushed some hair back out of her face.

"I like you."

"Glad to hear it even after all of this time together. Still haven't scared you off?"

"I don't think that's even possible." She chuckled. She did have a point they had been through an awful lot together. He'd been surprised how different she was after three years. Then again, he had been different too. Very different. Prison had changed him. So had Alana, Will, even what had happened to Chilton. No one really stayed truly the same after that length of time.

"Do you ever miss what you had before?"

"I still…somewhat have it." She said and took in a deep breath. "Just have other people to run it for me now. People that know to keep their mouths shut. Besides, they don't even know where I actually am. You know that. I'm careful."

"Then how is the FBI on our trail?"

"That I couldn't tell you but considering that I'm aiding a man to your criminal level do you not think it would benefit me to be as careful as I possibly could be?" She asked. "Look this has already happened to us. We got rid of them we weren't tracked down again until now. Besides the contact says they are close not they have any actual clue where we are. It just means staying quiet for a few days. Maybe a week. Ear to the ground. You've been in far more dangerous situations than this before."

> _When he woke up next he was on the couch, in the cabin. He didn't have much of a memory of how he'd gotten there either. Something about a fake rock and smashing in the skull of Freddie Lounds. The idea made him chuckle which really only caused pain to radiate through his stomach and chest. He let out a bit of a groan and struggled to get to his feet. Glancing around the room, he saw a light on in the kitchen. It was dark in there and outside. He could see nothing. Hear almost nothing. Just the sounds of nature. Crickets and the wind. Occasional branch knocking against the side of the house. Taking a deep breath, he smelled the familiar scent of food. Had he cooked something before passing out? Had Freddie? No that…that wasn't even possible. He really needed to get a grip on things. Even though it pained him greatly, he began to head towards the kitchen. Though it wasn't far from the couch it seemed like miles. Especially with the level of pain he needed to go through in order to actually get there._
> 
> _On the table was food. All prepared. Most of it still warm. Some of it would need to be reheated. None of it was fresh. At least not fresh in the way he'd like it to be. Canned things. All of it. Better than nothing. He was going to have to eat if he also intended to recover from this enough to get on to Canada. He hadn't even bothered to check if there was some means of transportation. Besides, everyone would still be looking for him. He'd need a way to disguise his appearance. He didn't even have a passport, or any sort of fake ID. It wouldn't be easy to get into Canada but it had to be done. Where there was a will, there definitely was a way. He sighed. Will. Yes. That poor man who had most likely drowned in the river as they had fallen. He shouldn't have let go. It would have just been better to slip into the water and never emerge._
> 
> _"You don't really think that." Freddie said from behind him._
> 
> _"I don't know what I think." He muttered and sat down at the table with a wince. "Food is still…good."_
> 
> _"Yes." She said, "I worked very hard on it." He decided to let that comment slide. Maybe she had worked very hard on it. She was a part of him anyway so it didn't make as little sense as it should have given the context. "There's no people in it you know."_
> 
> _"I'm well aware of that. Unless they have started to sell human meat in cans now." He chuckled and picked up a fork._
> 
> _"Rumor has it that spam contains people. That may just be a rumor."_
> 
> _"Where have I heard that before?"_
> 
> _"My website." She smirked and sat down across from him. She wasn't dressed in that fancy mink coat any more. Still the same bright red and plaid pants but instead of the coat she was in a black turtleneck sweater. No earmuffs either. He could see the earrings she was wearing were miniature versions of the knife he was carrying with him. She wasn't incorrect. He could most certainly recall seeing that as a little article headline off to the side of her blog at some point. It had made him mildly amused._
> 
> _"Very sad anyone could actually believe that." He said starting to poke at the food so he could force feed it to himself._
> 
> _"A fool and his money are soon parted." She replied, "So what are our plans for getting out of here?"_
> 
> _"Our plans? I'm not taking you." He said and reached for the bottle of water that was on the table. Hopefully he would keep down what he managed to swallow. Some of the food already looked dined upon. That was a good sign. It meant he had eaten before he passed out and it had stayed in his system. He wasn't covered in vomit after all._
> 
> _"If it were that easy to get rid of me…"_
> 
> _"I believe we've been over this." He glared at her and then continued to eat for a moment longer. He ate until the pain in his stomach was far too much to handle and sat back. Taking a deep breath he watched her for another moment. She was just looking at him. Almost as if she were studying him. Thinking about something. What could she possibly be thinking about? This was…odd. Perhaps it was just better to separate himself from this delusion. Treat it as if it were a real person. If he thought too much about it he'd never get anything done. It wasn't as if there were anyone around to watch him come undone and have an invisible friend._
> 
> _"You should call me." She said._
> 
> _"Why? You're right here?" He pushed himself to his feet and started to walk out of there again. He needed to find some sort of first aid kit. Or strong alcohol. Anything that he could use to clean out the wound. It wouldn't completely treat the infection but he could clean out the rotting tissue. The more offensive tissue of the wound. If it came to it, he could cut out things. Clean it precisely, and then bandage himself up. He was still relatively strong. There was a good chance if he could remove all or even most of the infected area himself, his body would fight the infection without any real need for antibiotics. He'd just be sick for a while while he recovered. It was better than death. He found a drawer and a bunch of sharp knives._
> 
> _"Do you think operating on yourself is a great idea?"_
> 
> _"Do you have a better plan?"_
> 
> _"I told you to call me."_
> 
> _"Ms. Lounds…Freddie…whatever I am calling you now. How is that ever going to help? You are a snitch. You have the biggest mouth in the entire state of Maryland or…Illinois…or wherever the hell you live now." He said._
> 
> _"Rude."_
> 
> _"The truth isn't always nice, is it?"_
> 
> _"Guess I can't disagree with that." She said and folded her arms over her chest. He nodded and walked out of there. In the lounge area there was a bar with quite a bit of alcohol. Wide selection. It wasn't as if the person who used this place in the summer would need to worry about storage of it when it was still cold. He started to go through the bottles until he found the alcohol with the highest proof and picked it up. It would have to do unless he could find rubbing alcohol or peroxide. After that point he grabbed a few towels and shuffled towards the stairs up to where the bedrooms were. She was waiting on the bed for him. Once again defying reality by traveling in such a fashion. He let it go once again._
> 
> _"You know I can help you."_
> 
> _"How?" He asked, "I don't even have your number." He made his way into the bathroom and sniffed around. Setting the bottle of alcohol and the knife on the counter he looked under it to find some bleach and a sponge. He went to the tub and started to clean things, making sure they were as sterile as they could possibly get if he were going to attempt this._
> 
> _"Computer."_
> 
> _"They could trace it." He huffed as he continued to scrub the tub and the floor. Any spot germs would hide out in. Multiply._
> 
> _"Only if I called the police."_
> 
> _"And why would you not?" He asked deciding to humor her._
> 
> _"Story of the century. You'd be in my back pocket. You'd owe me your life because I showed up here to help you and we both damn well know how easily I am tempted by a good story that can make money." She said, taking a seat on the toilet. He turned to look at her. This was true. She was nothing if she wasn't easily manipulated. He'd sent her tips before. Where to find things. Of course back then it had been anonymous. He could do it again though. Drop a little message on her contact form. The same way he had before. Coax her out to this address and wait. See if she took the bait. He wouldn't be able to kill her, not if she were going to help him. At that point she may be his only key to the outside world. To getting help. Which meant playing nice. Seeing as how he had never found her too insufferable (just dangerous to himself) it wasn't the worst option in the world._
> 
> _"You know this all depends on if the computer has a working wifi connection here. Why would it still be on in the off season?" He asked._
> 
> _"Worth a shot." She shrugged. Maybe it was. Perhaps the owners of the cabin had been here recently for some reason. Or just left it on because they didn't care. Maybe there were points they rented it out to guests and didn't bother to turn it off. There were many reasons it could still be on. He set down the cleaning material and went to wash his hands._
> 
> _"Where was this computer?"_
> 
> _"In the lounge. You passed right by it." She rolled her eyes at him._
> 
> _"Don't get snippy with me. You're lucky you aren't my dinner."_
> 
> _"Yes, Hannibal, you can totally consume projections of your own mind. How silly of me." She chuckled. Ignoring her stupid comment he walked out of there, stopping only briefly to rest against the doorway. Going downstairs a second time seemed like a daunting task but he was going to do it. He hoped it wasn't going to be a waste of time. Once he'd made it to the bottom of the steps he got to the computer, sat down in the chair in front of it, and started it up. Amazingly just to get in there were no passwords. Whoever owned this thing certainly wasn't too concerned about security. Why would they be? This cabin was in the middle of nowhere. They had every reason to believe that no one would get in there unless they were invited. The FBI wouldn't even be able to get in there without probable cause or a warrant. Hopefully the water washed away his scent enough that tracking dogs wouldn't lead them there, allowing them the ability to bust down the door without a warrant._
> 
> _Once the computer booted, he could see full bars in the reception meter at the top. Indicating the wifi was on. The internet was connected. Had he known that all along or had it just been a wild guess? How could he have known it? How could the Freddie delusion have known it? It was safer to say it was just a desperate ray of hope he'd held. Well, it had been worth it. Immediately he visited Tattlecrime.com and found the tip box for Freddie Lounds. The delusion had gone disturbingly quiet. It bothered him for whatever reason. It wasn't as if he weren't use to being alone, or even lonely, but now that he'd had the company it was weird without it. She was the closest thing he'd had to a friend other than Will Graham. Even if it was basically being friends with himself._
> 
> _The anonymous tip box was still there so he left a message. Left the general location of where he was. Didn't use a proxy server or anything like that. He wanted to be able to allow her to track him without being too direct. This of course meant that it could take her a while to find him. If she could find him at all. If she didn't call the FBI. There were all big ifs in this situation but part of him knew that she'd be more interested in loyalty to her readers than loyalty to the FBI. She'd never been one to play by the rules in the past. As soon as that was finished he walked back up to the bathroom and finished cleaning. She was still waiting there on the toilet, using a nail file on her nails._
> 
> _"You better not be wrong you know."_
> 
> _"When have I ever been wrong? I was right about Abigail being the killer, I was right to think you were the Ripper, I was right that you and Alana were fucking each other…"_
> 
> _"Oh please, do not bring up that cunt." He snapped._
> 
> _"Sorry…sorry." She said, her tone sarcastic and uncaring as if she weren't sorry at all. "Going to eat her first chance you get?"_
> 
> _"Yes. Nice and slow. Keep her alive so she is forced to watch me do it. Maybe keep her alive permanently. Just…damage her a bit. Let her live with the mutilations." He replied then stripped his shirt off and set it aside. He placed the bleach back under the sink and pulled out the medium size first aid kit from there. Inside there were things that were very useful. Alcohol swabs, gauze, bandages, ice packs activated chemically, surgical scissors, a lighter, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Grabbing a towel from the rack, he set that out flat and laid each item on top of it._
> 
> _"Mutilation? That's not too like you. At least not for revenge purposes."_
> 
> _"When you've spent as much time in prison as I have only being able to fantasize, you get far more creative." He smiled at her and leaned himself against the tub. Taking a few deep and slow breaths he poured some alcohol into the gaping hole that was the bullet wound after removing the dirty cloth he'd been using as a bandage before. He hissed in pain._
> 
> _"You'll go into shock."_
> 
> _"I will not." He panted, motioning to his last resort. It was an epi-pen and it was still in the box that previously held the other materials._
> 
> _"Well, I certainly hope you are right. That or I know what to do about a passed out serial killer when I get here."_
> 
> _"Alright now…now you are just being weird." He whispered and grabbed the knife. She shrugged and went back to doing her nails on the toilet as if this were no big thing. Maybe it wasn't. It could potentially turn out alright. He just wasn't sure he still had much hope for that being the case._

Between the two of them there really shouldn't be any issue. She was right. He had not only been in worse situations before they had been in those situations together and made it through. As much as he hated to admit it, she had become quite an asset to him and it was awful as much as it was wonderful. She was a decent actress too. Kept up the whole marriage pretense without expecting much of him other than to dote on Will. She'd even gotten Will too him. He quite often wondered if what she desired was to actually be married to him. A man who could in no way match any level of emotional care she genuinely had for him.

"Are you sure this is something you are up to? Again? If the FBI…"

"Hannibal. You know how I am. You know that I've had to stay hidden myself. You do remember the night I first arrived don't you? How I found you? The messes I managed to clean up? Come on…don't start doubting me now. You certainly didn't before." She said standing up again. After straightening out her skirt she walked out of the room. He didn't like that she had a point but she really did. He glanced back at Will and sighed. Three heads would always be better than one or two but he wasn't going to get that option soon. He knew that.

Freddie headed down to the kitchen to make herself some coffee. Possibly add just a bit of alcohol to it. What was she doing to herself? With him? He was Hannibal Lecter of all people. She'd saved his life and gotten into his good graces and all he could give a great goddamn about was Will. Everything was about Will. She'd assumed that once he saw the actual condition the man was in he'd have given up. Even a mercy kill.

Yet now, every day, he sat up there with the guy. Either being silent or reading to him. Playing music. Something. Since she'd gotten Will bad there he'd done everything but pay attention to her. Considering that Will actually did need a lot of attention it may be understandable but she still resented him for it. Six months ago this wasn't exactly where she pictured ending up. Not after the events that followed.

> _Freddie pulled up to the cabin in her Jeep and shut down the engine. This had been as far as she'd been able to track the message. At least it wasn't in the actual middle of nowhere. At least not in the sense that there was no building here. No monument. Body. Anything. It was a cabin. That made sense. Something had to have been able to send the message after all and her tracking equipment told her that it came from a PC. Not a mobile phone. It was a nice cabin too. Fancy. Probably worth a fortune. What exactly was here though? Could be a trap. Wasn't as if she didn't have loan sharks after her still. It wasn't that she couldn't pay them but now that she had her fortune she didn't want to pay them. Fuck those guys. They hadn't been too nice in the first place._
> 
> _Grabbing her gun and her phone, she got out of the Jeep and headed to the front door. Her gloved hand rested on the handle then paused. She listened for any sort of sound. It was pitch black by that point. The only light she had was her car headlights but they shut off about ten seconds later as she was thinking that. Cursing under her breath she pulled a flashlight from her back pocket and turned it on. Her hand turned at the knob and surprisingly the door opened. At least she wasn't going to have to stand out there with her lockpick and gun in the freezing cold. She opened the door and shone the light in first. No one was immediately visible there but she saw blood on the couch. Quite a bit of it. That was interesting. Tucking her gun into the pocket of her mink coat, she took her camera from around her neck and snapped a few pictures. Then she stepped inside completely. She could smell food. It was still fresh. Or at least it seemed recently prepared, not something that had been left out for days._
> 
> _Keeping silent, she shut the door behind her slowly and looked around again. There was a trail of blood from the couch to the kitchen then leading up towards the stairs. Letting her camera fall so it hung around her neck again, she pulled her gun and aimed it with the flashlight as she headed towards the stairs. Then up them. This was why she was very grateful to be small. Light on her feet. If someone was there ready to ambush her, she'd likely hear them first. Get the drop on them. It didn't matter though, she still couldn't hear anything and it didn't seem anyone was actually there. As frustrating as it was that this seemed like a wild goose chase, there was blood. That meant she could spin this into a story. Get all the pictures she needed, call the cops, and then find out what they were investigating. That was pay dirt for her publication. Everyone loved a good and unsolved murder mystery. Then she heard a loud groan. It caused her to jump back. Turning quickly she aimed the gun in the direction of the sound. The flashlight illuminated through a door and into a bedroom. There was a man on the bed. He was clearly in no actual condition to get up and do anything to her._
> 
> _"Hello?" She asked softly and stepped into the room. The beam of her light traveled over his feet, up his legs. To his shirtless torso. There was a bandage around his stomach. Covering a good inch or two. Fresh blood on it as well but it seemed he wasn't currently bleeding, More than likely it had recently stopped. There wasn't even blood staining the sheets. The man moaned again and she moved the light to his face. With a small gasp her hand shook a bit and she took a deep breath attempting to steady it. "Doctor Lecter…"_
> 
> _"You--found me." He whispered._
> 
> _"I suppose I did." She shut the bedroom door and walked over to the bed to look him over. "What the hell happened? Will isn't waiting here to gut me is he?" She took a few pictures of him and he put his arm up, wincing at the flash._
> 
> _"Ms. Lounds…"_
> 
> _"What?"_
> 
> _"I need your help."_
> 
> _"Oh this…this is going to be very interesting. You know that right?" She smiled and found a lamp by the bedside to turn on. He grumbled something that she couldn't quite understand but she knew why he was unhappy. In this position she held all the power. He would have been well aware that it was something that she like holding. This would put her in a situation to go home with the gold, and there was no way in hell that she wasn't going to take it. "Go on Hannibal, tell me what you need. I'm most definitely listening."_

She poured the coffee into her mug and added a dash of Irish cream. Hannibal wouldn't really approve of her drinking this early in the morning. That was if she were caught. There was no reason she should want him so bad or be this level of attracted to him. They merely had a deal. He'd take care of her with his expansive fortune and she'd take care of what he needed. Whether that be body disposal, spying, or alerting him to when the FBI was close. Her contact hadn't even been clear on that. She could only really reach out to them for brief windows of time before she had to go. Otherwise she risked her signal being traced.

She'd have to head out again. Hannibal wouldn't even know she was gone. She'd just look for a quiet place, find another disposable cell phone to buy, and give a call. There was no reason not to trust her contact. She'd known him for years and he'd never betrayed her. Not with the payroll she kept him on then and could keep him on now with access to Hannibal's money. The people she dealt with found money far more important than running off to the cops. As long as she kept his payment higher than Hannibal's bounty they were safe. With Hannibal missing as long as he was, the bounty was dropping. He was still assumed dead. No one even knew where Will went or who had even taken him. Everything over there was still a big mystery to all parties involved. Yet her contact seemed to think there was someone out there. Someone after them. She could really only assume it was the FBI. The statute of limitations on Hannibal's crimes would never expire. It would really just be the expedition of him back to the states keeping him safe.

She took a few more sips of her coffee before grabbing the car keys. For a moment she entertained the thought of calling out to Hannibal to tell him she was leaving. He either wouldn't hear her in that expansive condo they inhabited or he wouldn't care enough to answer. It had happened before. Well, at very least she had a luxury car to drive and a new name that included a very fancy title. It was the life she'd always dreamed of but now that she had it, it seemed far more like a nightmare.


End file.
